


Ghosts Of Santanillas

by Amsare



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Angst, Guilt, Hearing Voices, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 13:08:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6659350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amsare/pseuds/Amsare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"You were the first to betray us, to turn your back on me, after all we did together!" Edward shouts to the sky, punching the wall in front of him.  "You are the betrayer, Ben, not me."</i>
</p><p> <i>And yet, the voice doesn't stop, you feel guilty.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghosts Of Santanillas

**Author's Note:**

> I've finished _Assassin's Creed IV: Black Flag_ and I had so many feels I had to write something.

“Why are we here, Edward?” Adéwalé is asking him cautiously, looking at the little island that the Jackdaw is approaching.  
   
"There are a couple of chests I heard of I want to get," Edward answers as he gets ready to get off the ship, "I'll be back soon with some gold for all of you, lads!"  
   
At those words, his men roar in happiness and drop the anchor, starting to sing one of their shanties as they always do.  
   
   
_We are outward bound for Mobile town_  
With a heave-o, haul!  
   
_An' we'll heave the ol' wheel round an' round_  
Good mornin' ladies all!  
   
   
Edward sighs, smile fading off slowly as he remembers the real reason why he is back there in Santanillas; he knows that Adéwalé is probably well aware of it – he is not stupid that lad.  
   
But, at least, he had the decency to do not say a word to the rest of the crew: they would not understand their Captain.  
   
As soon as he’s on the shore, he starts walking toward the majestic stone temple of the Maya.  
   
The weather is changing fast, clouds shadowing the sun: it's getting far too similar to the weather of that grim day.  
   
There's nobody waiting for him there, not even an animal to hunt; the wind is blowing hard through the trees making them move.  
   
He looks at his right, recognising the unmistakable mast of the _Benjamin_ : the schooner is still there along with his shredded sails.  
   
_Do you still want to do it?_ A little voice asks him in his mind, a voice reminding him of someone he once knew, someone he once called friend.  
   
_Friend? Were we just friends now?_ The voice asks sarcastically, _I didn’t know you slept with all your friends, Edward._  
   
"Shut up," Edward murmurs and keeps on walking, shivering in the wind.  
                                                                                            
It's easier to climb the Maya temple this time, as there are no guards wanting to kill him nor old friends shouting orders to them, ready for him to come.  
   
_You took me by surprise, I must confess. You stabbed me at my back, literally,_ the voice whispers in his mind, _how ironic?_  
   
"You were the first to betray us, to turn your back on me, after all we did together!" Edward shouts to the sky, punching the wall in front of him.  "You are the betrayer, Ben, not me."  
   
_And yet_ , the voice doesn't stop, _you feel guilty._  
   
Edward clenches his teeth, climbing over a wall, trying to ward off inevitable sorrowful memories that haunt his night – drunk on rum and lust, kissing and biting, hearts beating hard and fast, his skin against his own…  
   
_Aye,_ the voice laughs at those images, _you miss me, my boy, you miss your old Benjamin._  
   
"And so?" Edward has to be careful as he's climbing higher and higher and he doesn't want to fall down, "I don’t miss what you have become in the end. I did what I had to do, by the way. I did the right thing."  
   
There's a loud sound of a thunder that shakes the air and it starts to rain soon after - but it doesn’t matter though as he's nearly up there and he has to endure.  
   
_The right thing to do? So tell me, why are you here again if you're not in grief?_ , the voice mocks him, _don't tell me you're going to prey for my soul. Or it’s yours which worries you?_  
   
"I had to come back, that's all," Edward makes a grunt for the effort as he finally reaches the top, crawling on his knees; he need to catch his breath.  
   
_Oh look over there, Edward._  
   
He knows where to look at, he cannot forget it: there is something disturbingly red on the grey stone floor.  
   
_You wish it was not real, don't you_ , the voice comments, _the moment the blade stabbed me right in my back, blood gushing down, you wish it was just a dream. You wish you could wake up right next to me as you used to so long ago._  
   
"Leave me be, Ben," Edward murmurs, eyes fixed on that red spot, Benjamin's blood.  
   
They had been so close that day, his body over his, so intimate: except that had not been time for kindness.  
   
He had murdered him.  
   
_Isn't life cruel, Edward? You came here looking for money and respect, to create something for your family. Then one day you met me, a man named Benjamin Horningold and oh, isn’t it funny, how you end up caring for me? You believed you have found your place, haven't you?_  
   
"Go away!"  
   
_The nights spent drinking rum and singing shanties, laughing and dancing. That was heaven, Edward, do you remember how happy we were? Oh my, one of those times we even kissed, forgetting about our sweet gals – we soon found out how the time spent together was much more enjoyable._  
   
"Don't."  
   
_But unfortunately all good things come to an end. And Nassau started to become a nasty place! Sickness spreading everywhere, women and children dying. You couldn't save them as you couldn't do nothing but watch me to try and fix that place!_  
   
"Shut your gob!" Edward shouts angrily in tears, punching his fists on the ground: his hands hurt.  
   
_What have you done since Nassau fell? Nothing but murder and mayhem. If only you had understood me, if only you had listened what the Templars had to offer… Maybe we could have stayed together once again, shoulder to shoulder. Maybe you would have said that you **loved** me._  
   
“ENOUGH!”  
   
There’s another thunder, rain falling down on Edward’s miserable figure; the voice is silent and the pirate cries, sobbing, clutching his chest.  
   
“I miss you, Ben.”  
   
***  
   
“Did you find those chests you were looking for?” Adéwalé is the first one helping him to get on the Jackdaw.  
   
He knows, of course he knows.  
   
“Bad luck, Adé. I didn’t,” Edward answers, avoiding to look into his quartermaster’s eyes.  
   
He takes the wheel and sails his Jackdaw far away from Santanillas – its Ghost will follow him forever.  
   
   
_So a long goodbye to all you dears_  
With a heave-o, haul!  
  
_Don't cry for us, don't waste yer tears_  
Good mornin' ladies all!


End file.
